#authorofthejournals

So I’ve been binge watching gravity falls lately. I wanna talk about something.

In the episode bottomless pit (s1 e14) Mabel tells a story called ‘Truth Ache’. (According to dipper, they just lived through it)

You know how easy it would have been for Stan to reveal the identity of the author! In the episode, Dipper clearly asks Stan “what do you do in secret everyday during your lunch break?” I know he only goes down to the basement at night and probably avoids going during the day but it’s just a thought. Still, he could have let’s something accidentally slip out like, “I think about my twin brother I lost in the portal in the basement, also he’s the author of a series of journals that explain how to operate it.”

Also in the episode ‘DreamScaperers’ (s1 e19) Dipper could have accidentally opened a door revealing Ford and all the secrets of Gravity Falls could have been revealed to him. The thing is, he DID appear in the episode. On the bleachers, his face is hidden behind a book. (And he’s wearing boxing mittens) Who else would be in the same class as Stan and be reading a book. Not many.

I already considered you my best friend. If saying it himself didn't already feel unpleasant, the words coupled with the genuine exhilaration on his face make him feel like he's trying to claw his way out of his own skin. Well, so much for trying not to repeat the past - he supposes he should know better by now. That it doesn't change. That's just what he gets, for thinking he was even actually capable of having one of those, isn't it? He already knows how this entire thing will play out once the next few sentences leave his mouth, but that's fine. He isn't real anyways, and if he was, why should he care? If he was too stubborn to listen the first time around, he can stay stubborn the second time around, and he doesn't care - he was just a pawn anyways. The contempt for this situation, Sixer's stubbornness, himself for continuously gutting anything good that comes across you like the monster you are , all expels outwards with sheer venom towards himself - the rightful target of his ire.

As Sixer gapes at him, his simply grins back, humor completely void from his expression. Just malice. Should've quit when you were ahead. He can faintly hear a reaction behind him - my muse, except lacking all joy that title used to bring - but he shuts it out. There's no use in acknowledging it, and he doesn't have to be all knowing to know what conclusion he'll come to. Already took him long enough to realize the truth anyways.

In comparison to his future selves almost eerie sense of calm in the face of all this, Stanford - why didn't he say that before, was that even true? - was entirely correct about his sheer state of panic. Breathe, he should breathe, but he can't even think straight enough to remember how to. He doesn't even know what to think about what he'd said, if he can even think about them to begin with. He was sorry? Why bother apologizing when it was clearly already done, what good would it do either of them now? He was already dead - he was dead, oh stars he was going to die - he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't even think he can say anything, although somewhere in his mind, he agrees. He wished they'd never met - maybe thing wouldn't hurt so much if they hadn't.

There's tears forming in his eye, just from everything, and the sound of another approaching somewhat bring him back to reality. Enough to react anyways, his gaze snapping towards the younger one out of the set. One he doesn't doubt hates him just as much as the older one, now. He doesn't want to know - not anymore about anything he has to say, not about anything else he's done - so Stanford's statement isn't something to worry about for very longer after he says it, considering the chance he takes to dart off into the foliage.

He's really starting to think any chance he's ever had at getting a break died alongside the Nightmare Realm. That, and maybe the Axolotl has a sicker sense of humor than he does. When he'd agreed to a second chance, a pseudoscientific mental hell hole was not what he'd had in mind, and neither was this stupid, hick town. He's spent a week in the woods by now, and it's been terrible. He knows what Frills wants from him, but he's not giving him that satisfaction.

At least, he wouldn't if he could help it.

@authorofthejournals asked → " it's a strange world, isn't it? " ( src. / accepting. )

There are probably better ways to put it, but Brant can't help agreeing with the sentiment offered to him by the strange drifter—not a Fool, and almost certainly not of Rinascita in the first place.

"A strange world indeed, my newfound friend," he replies, eyes set on the comings-and-goings of Elysium around them for a moment before they find their way back to the odd stranger. "Your mysterious circumstances have left you stranded in an even stranger part of it. You're lucky we stumbled across you; the mist is rolling back in, and this whole island will soon be deadly to any and all unfortunate souls who find themselves wandering its wastes."

It's an exaggeration for the sake of intrigue, but only slightly. Those members of the Troupe who can confidently brave the mists alone number only two—Brant himself, and Roccia. The newcomer doesn't appear to have a Tacet Mark, so Brant supposes he'd likely be counted among those who wouldn't last particularly long.

Thinking gloomy thoughts like that, Brant feels the urge to occupy his hands, and so pulls out the orange in his pocket he'd been saving for later, tossing it up and catching it once, then twice.

"Your comment speaks to some inquisitive desire, but it's one I'm afraid I can't answer in vivid, rational detail. We're far more concerned with the question of 'what' than the question of 'why', for reasons that are likely obvious. Still, if there's anything specific you'd like to know about this place, I'll vow to do my utmost in the way of satisfying your curiosity while you're stuck in here with our motley crew!"

  𖤐  ꒷៹  ₆⁶₆  ࣪  .  ›  ࣪  .  ›     ㅤㅤㅤㅤ                         ㅤㅤ❝  well  well  well  !   aren't  you  a  sight  for  sore  eye  !  —  stanford  filbrick  pines  !  my  old  pal  !   ❞   ㅤㅤㅤ unblinking  eye  narrowing  into  a  crescent  of  amusement.ㅤㅤ❝  I've  been  waiting  an  ETERNITY  to  have  nice  little  chat  face  to  face  !   ❞  

ㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐘   phased  directly  into  Ford’s  personal  space,  his  glowing  form  floating  mere  inches  away.  He  leaned  in  close,  his  single  eye  wide  with  playful  malice,  and  with  a  swift  motion,  flicked  the  man's  nose.

@authorofthejournals

"Huuh? What are you complaining about,geezer? " says a granny herself as she places her bat on her shoulder casually puffing smoke from her cigar.